


a proposal.

by katasstropheee



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/M, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, Marriage Proposal, Romantic Fluff, Soulmates, a birthday gift, expect nothing more, it's just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:07:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25904836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katasstropheee/pseuds/katasstropheee
Summary: What it says on the tin.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood & Macy Vaughn, Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	a proposal.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [myspaceout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/myspaceout/gifts).



> this was written in just under twenty minutes. it's unbeta'd and unedited. i will look at it sometime soon for those purposes.
> 
> but for right now, it is a birthday gift for catherine/@myspaceout. you have been incredibly kind and welcoming to me, especially since becoming a more recent member of the hacy community. i couldn't be more grateful for all you've done for me. even your small comments on my fics have been big gestures in my eyes.
> 
> so thank you. and have an amazing day! i hope you find something beautiful in this tragic mess. :p

“Dance with me?”

Macy was blowing the steam off her tea, her eyes gazing in dazed absence at the ripples her breath made over the water. She had failed to notice Harry’s approach. Or the hand he held out in beckoning.

“Sorry?”

“Dance with me.”

Now she was coming back to her senses, it seemed the room around her had changed. She must’ve really been out of it – enough for Harry to light a few candles, sprinkle rose petals over the floor, and to bring in Maggie’s large boombox, which was playing a soft swell of violins in a tune Macy vaguely recognised. It was all very overwhelming.

But she kept her cool, placing her mug down on the small table beside the couch. “Harry, what is this?”

He looked around himself, admiring his quickly arranged display. “Consider this a… celebration.”

“Celebration?”

He could now see the hesitation in her brow, in the shake of her fists as they clenched the rough surface of the sofa. He kneeled down on one knee, giving her his undivided attention. Her skin felt a little clammy, but not as sweltering under his palm as he held her cheek. “You’ve made a full recovery from your injuries. Not to mention, you took that whole hive of scavengers down on your own.”

Right. The scavengers. Most of Macy’s memories of the past two weeks were vague, with the fever having taken care of the rest. What she can recall in somewhat perfect detail is the acidic burn of the ropes that had bound her hands, and the sickly smell of rotting flesh that took far too much shampoo to remove from her hair. And the surge of power she gained, when it felt like it was too fruitless to fight.

She had saved herself. But it had left her for worse in the process. Mind you, she had the most faithful whitelighter watching over her. She can’t remember a time she woke up without Harry at her side – sitting up to make sure she had everything she’d need. Or asleep in the bed, head tucked into her shoulder.

“I… I think I remember now.” She gave him a once-over, noticing the change of clothes. They looked fresh and pressed. Even his shoes had a dull polish to them. “You were there.”

“I was.”

“The whole time.” The affection is her voice made him choke up a little. He ducked his head to hide the swallow, but she still caught on at the blooming blush that spread through his cheeks. She picked up his face, holding it delicately as he gazed right back into her wide eyes. “Harry, you’ve sacrificed so much for me.”

“Well, I think a little sleep was the least of my worries” he quipped.

“No, no. In the cave.” A moment of silence sparked a new sensation in her stomach. She lent back a little, keeping her hands close to Harry. A sudden weight was pushing heavily on her chest. “You could’ve died you know.”

“I do” he acknowledged with quick ease. “But so could've you. And I would risk a million of my lifetimes to ensure you never lose one.”

“Harry-“

“I love you, Macy Vaughn.”

These weren’t the first time these words had been spoken out loud. In fact, upon hearing it for the first time, they had not been able to _stop_ saying it since. At every chance they got. During dangerous missions. In the kitchen. In bed. The words never lost their meaning or multitude, no matter how many times they were repeated.

But now, with the past month and a half looming over their heads, those words felt new. And deeper somehow.

“I love you too, Harry Greenwood.”

Ignoring the weight that had fallen over her body, she pushed through and held Harry tight. He held her back with the same ferocity, burying his face into her shoulder. He was the first out of them both to break into tears. Macy could argue she was still too exhausted to do the same, but she knew they would come all too soon.

Her fingers felt the familiar strands of Harry’s soft locks, as she pulled his face free of her sweater. She wiped the stray tears from his cheeks, holding him as close as she could without breaking eye contact. “So… you asked me to dance. Is that offer still on the table?”

He chuckled, snorting a pinch in the back of his throat. She found it so endearing whenever he lost his calm façade around her. “Yeah, yeah” he approved, wiping his face with one swift drag of his sleeve. He stood quickly, the same hand he had held out before still beckoning for her stance with the same poise.

This time, she took the hand.

They swayed to the sweet sounds of Macy’s favourite songs, playing in random concession. She doesn’t know how many actually played as they swayed together. Soon enough they were all just blending together. The only constant in that moment was Harry – his hands on her back, his soft breath caressing her neck as he hummed along with the music, and the warm embrace that came with holding him so close.

Eventually they stopped moving. But they didn’t dare to part. He held her in a firm vice, his forehead resting ever so gently against hers. “Macy.” Her name was said with such deep passion.

“Harry” she reflected back.

“I have something to ask of you.”

“Well then, ask.”

A brief lapse made Macy pause. The music had stopped sometime while they conversed. Harry’s hands had stiffened. His expression, while still warm and inviting, looked hesitant. “Whatever it is, Harry, you can ask me.” She hoped her words would have the desired effect.

They did. Or perhaps, this was his plan all along. ‘Cause in the brief flash of reprieve Macy had at his change in expression, Harry was falling onto one bended knee. Same as he had before when she was seated.

But now, the gesture had a different meaning. And it look Macy’s mind far too long to understand what it meant.

“Macy Vaughn.”

Her tongue was glued to the roof of her mouth.

“Would you make me the happiest man in the world…”

Her hands started to shake.

“And meet me down the end of the aisle?”

She couldn’t believe it. Sure, the evidence was right in front of her, in plain sight for any dummy to see. The music. The candles. The petals. But none of that compared to the small box he had pulled from seemingly nowhere. Or the big crisp diamond, that sat atop of a thin silver band.

“Harry, is this what I think it is?” she asked, laughing at her own absurdity. “No, I know what this is, sorry.” She hid behind her hands, embarrassed by her babbling. “I just… I need to hear it.”

She dropped her hands and gave Harry the most determined, the most enamoured smile she could muster through a landslide of tears and ooze. “Say it Harry.”

“Macy Vaughn.” If he repeated her name like that one last time, she would flip out! “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.” He barely finished his question before an answer came bursting from her lips. Like an eruption from both ends, they collided in the middle. He lifted her with a strength he never had before and spun her in circles. She closed her eyes, letting the dizziness fill her head. It was already filled to the brim with loving thoughts of Harry, of memories from the past all building to this moment.

Even with her eyes shut tight, she could find his lips. When he had finally stopped spinning, she kissed all other words and reflections out of his mouth. It was messy, and far too wet or erratic to be considered a great kiss.

And yet, it was the best they’d ever had.

A slippered foot was lifted off the ground during the entire embrace. They were lost in the hours that must’ve passed since Harry had popped the question. And that was just fine with them.

Her tea might’ve gone cold, sitting by itself in the chilly expanse of the attic. But their love and desire for each other was scolding, and would continue to burn for the rest of their life, and the many more to follow.


End file.
